


Being Yourself

by CelesteFitzgerald



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Gen, M/M, No Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:47:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25077847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelesteFitzgerald/pseuds/CelesteFitzgerald
Summary: George's life is stressful, but he finds comfort and peace from something he never expected.
Relationships: George Harrison/Ringo Starr
Comments: 76
Kudos: 60





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> July 31st, 2020 update: I initially posted the first 3 chapters of this fic anonymously, but thanks to some awesome friends and me gaining (a tiny bit) more confidence, I decided to just post it as myself now. Eep.

George didn’t know how it happened. One minute he was lying on the sofa under a blanket, watching Netflix instead of studying for his exam, and the next the blanket was in his arms as he hugged it as tightly as he had clung to his security blanket when he was a kid. He laughed when he noticed what he was doing and quickly re-draped the blanket over himself.

He wasn’t expecting the feeling of loss and unease as soon as the blanket was out of his grip. The sounds of the movie faded to white noise as George crossed his arms over his chest and hugged himself. Something didn’t feel right. He shouldn’t be watching a movie, he should be studying. Why wasn’t he studying? He was going to fail.

And suddenly the edge of the blanket was back between his fingers as he clutched the fabric to his face. It was so fuzzy. He rubbed it against his cheek and giggled as it tickled him. Wait, giggled? He was twenty years old. He didn’t giggle.

But the blanket felt so soft. George forgot about tomorrow’s exam. He forgot about everything. He just nuzzled further into the blanket and let a smile spread across his face.

For those fifteen minutes, everything felt like it was going to be okay.

* * *

Thank god George lived alone. He didn’t know how he would have explained the events of the past few weeks to a roommate. Dragging a blanket around the flat. Literally jumping into bed every night and giggling as the mattress bounced him up and down. Audibly squealing at his favorite parts of television shows as he sat on the sofa with his knees hugged to his chest.

Like a fucking child.

Why did it keep happening? And why did it make him feel so happy?

Whether it was pure curiosity or a quest for validation, George turned to Google to see if there was anyone else out there like this. Then the first search result spewed off things about kinks and fetishes, and George slammed his laptop shut and stuffed the blanket in the back of his closet.

He was done with this. He was insane.

Falling asleep that night felt so lonely with nothing in his arms.

Some nights were better. The nights he spent with Ringo still made him happy. But no matter how hard he tried, George couldn’t erase those feelings that showed up every few days about how nice it would be to curl up in a blanket fort or sip some juice while laying on the floor in front of the TV. Thank god Ringo couldn’t read his mind and see what he really felt like doing while they were snogging on the sofa.

A couple weeks later, George couldn’t take it anymore. He dug his blankie out of the closet and held it close as he went back on Google. He had to find _someone_ out there who was like him.

And finally, he did. He found a _lot_ of people. He found photos of people showing off their beds full of stuffed animals, their brightly colored outfits, and their new pacifiers. Some had even made videos about their rooms and their favorite toys.

George felt a bit better after seeing that he wasn’t alone, but he still didn’t know why he felt this way. He did a bit more digging and saw that some people regressed due to past trauma, but that didn’t apply to him. Some of the other reasons didn’t quite fit either. Then, at the bottom of the list, he saw age regression as a coping mechanism for stress. He glanced up at his calendar with all the red ink marking the dates of next week’s final exams.

Bingo.

He had his answer. And there wasn’t anything broken about him. George was so relieved, he buried his face in his blankie and squealed.

* * *

George closed his front door, dropped the shopping bags on the floor, and sighed. He did it. And he didn’t even have to use that excuse he had prepared about shopping for his nephew’s birthday.

Gleefully bouncing up and down, he dug into one of the bags to pull out his new stuffies. They were so soft and warm and pretty, and he hugged them as hard as he could. Now he could snuggle with them at night—ooh, and he could give them all names! George wanted to play with them right away.

Wait, he was thirsty. He needed some water. George reached into the other bag and grabbed the pack of rainbow sippy cups. There were so many options, he thought as he tore open the package. He could use the green one, or the blue one—but the purple one was the best one.

George quickly filled the purple cup and took a sip. “Ooh, that’s funny,” he said at how weird it felt. But it was a good kind of weird. Then he realized how high-pitched his voice was, and he laughed at how good-weird that was, too.

With his sippy cup in his hand, George grabbed the leg of his stuffed elephant and hurried to the living room to turn the TV on. He picked out a cartoon, then lay on his tummy with his feet excitedly kicking the floor as he cuddled with Ellie and drank his water.

He was so happy that he cried.


	2. Chapter 2

Ever since George started embracing this other side of his life, he was so much happier. School didn’t feel nearly as bad when he had moments when he could just push the homework and studying from his mind and _play_.

He bought a few more things to add to his collection as well. He had several coloring books and crayons, a box of Legos, and some cute, brightly colored clothes. He also ordered an adult pacifier online in case he ever felt like using it, but he hadn’t removed it from the box yet.

He loved all his toys, but his favorites were the coloring books. It was so nice to get back to his flat at night, grab his crayons, and hum his favorite songs while he colored. Sometimes the crayon slipped outside the lines, but it still looked pretty.

Once George finished his newest picture, he carefully tore the drawing of Lightning McQueen out of the book and hurried off to his bedroom to hang it on the inside of his closet door. He grabbed Bobby, his teddy bear, from the bed to show him the newest addition to his art collection. George wished he could hang his pictures on his fridge, but he knew he couldn’t. If any of his friends, or—god forbid—his boyfriend saw any of this, he’d lose everyone. But it wasn’t so bad—George could talk about everything with Bobby, Ellie, and Lucy, his stuffed cat. They’d never judge him. And they gave the best hugs.

Giving Bobby another hug, George peeked at the clock. He still had a few hours before Ringo was coming over for dinner. Perfect. Now he could color another picture! He rushed back to the living room and bounced onto the sofa to dig through his other coloring books. There were so many options, it was hard to choose. He ended up picking his animal book and coloring a giraffe…until he noticed the puppy on the next page and switched.

George was in the middle of coloring the spots on the dog when someone knocked on his door. He stopped humming and stared at the door with wide eyes. No one was supposed to be here. Maybe if he stayed quiet, they’d leave. George clutched his crayon in one hand and squeezed Bobby’s paw with the other.

The knock came again. “George? You there?”

 _Ringo?_ Ringo wasn’t supposed to be here for two more hours, why was he here? George’s heart got fast and his toes tapped the floor. He couldn’t let Ringo in when he was still feeling little. It would ruin everything.

With a deep breath, George put on his best big boy voice and said, “Just a minute.” _Think adult thoughts_ , he told himself. Taxes, bills, laundry…crayons all over the floor. George brought his fists to his mouth and whimpered. His mess was everywhere. And he hated cleanup time.

As quickly as he could, George grabbed all his crayons and toys and shoved them into the nearest cabinet. Now he just needed to get the cabinet door to stay closed. He pushed, but his hand slipped and a handful of Legos fell out. Stifling another whine, George shakily put them back in.

“George? Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” George said, hoping Ringo couldn’t hear how squeaky his voice was. He needed to calm down. Why was this so scary?

With one final shove, the cabinet clicked shut and George felt a little bit safer. He scanned the room and sighed in relief. It could easily pass off as a standard Uni student’s flat. With a few more deep breaths to get his voice back to normal, George opened the door.

“Sorry. Didn’t think you were coming till six.”

Ringo shrugged and flashed him a big smile. “Just thought I’d surprise you.” He pulled a small bouquet of roses from behind his back…then frowned when he noticed that one of the stems had snapped. “Aw, shit,” Ringo said as he tried to straighten out the stem.

“Aren’t you sweet,” George giggled as he took the bouquet and went to find a vase. Ringo never stopped finding silly little ways to surprise him, and it made him giddy.

“What’s got you all happy today?” Ringo asked. “And what on earth are those socks?”

Freezing with his hand on the vase, George looked down at the socks on his feet—or rather, on his legs. Those bright red knee-highs were unmissable. “Um…they, uh—”

“Relax, love. They look cozy.”

George slowly nodded. “They are,” he whispered, resisting the urge to reach down and rub his hands over the soft material. He needed to pull it together.

They settled onto the sofa to watch TV before dinner. Thank god George was always cuddly and could wrap his limbs around Ringo without raising any suspicion. He happily nuzzled his head against Ringo’s shoulder as he felt himself slipping back toward that younger mindset. He knew he needed to keep this a secret, but Ringo just made him so _happy_.

Laughing, Ringo gave George a soft kiss on the forehead. Then his laughter stopped. “Since when do you have a teddy bear?”

George tensed and followed Ringo’s gaze to see Bobby wedged in the corner of the room, in plain sight. His face got warm as Ringo stared at him.

“George, what’s wrong?”

He messed up. He didn’t put away his mess. He still had his socks and Bobby and now Ringo was going to know and everything would be ruined—

“Oh god, don’t cry. It’s just a teddy bear. Nothing wrong with that.”

George’s lip kept quivering. It wasn’t just a teddy bear, it was so much more. He wrapped his arms around himself to stay calm, but he couldn’t…he couldn’t…

“I’m sowwy,” George blurted, running off toward his bedroom and slamming the door. He threw himself onto the bed, pulled Ellie close, and sobbed into his pillow.

Ringo was going to dump him for sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you x1,000,000 to those of you who read chapter 1. It means a lot. I'm just gonna kinda talk here for a bit, and you can ignore this if you want. I went on anon for this fic because I got nervous and uhhh, idk, I'm just trying to figure out some stuff about myself and using this fic to help me think about stuff. But yeah. Thank you for reading, you're lovely people <3


	3. Chapter 3

George clung to his stuffed elephant for dear life. It was over. It had to be. Ringo had seen too much, and now George would have to explain everything—if he even got the chance. By now, Ringo had probably stormed out of the flat in laughter or disgust. George wasn’t sure which option was worse.

 _Knock knock_.

“George? What happened?”

Whimpering against Ellie’s tummy, George tried to contain his sniffles. He didn’t want to do this.

“Can I come in?” Ringo asked softly.

George wanted to say no, to say that he wasn’t ready, but his voice just came out as another sob. On instinct, he stuck his thumb in his mouth to try to calm down, and somehow, it helped. His breathing started to stabilize and a feeling of comfort washed over him.

He felt so much calmer that he forgot he hadn’t locked the bedroom door.

It wasn’t until he saw Ringo standing in the doorway that George realized the door had opened.

“…George?”

Terrified, George pulled his thumb out of his mouth and hid Ellie behind his back. He clenched his shaking fists as his eyes remained glued on Ringo. He didn’t want to see how horrified Ringo was, but he couldn’t look away.

Ringo slowly and silently approached the bed and sat on the opposite side. “George, I’m…really confused. Are you hurt?”

George shook his head.

“Then what’s wrong?”

He shook his head again.

“Don’t lie to me, something’s obviously not right. Something’s wrong enough to make you suck your thumb like a child.”

Just like that, the tears were rolling down George’s cheeks again.

“Oh god, now I’m makin’ you cry again,” Ringo said, scooting closer to George and wiping away his tears with his thumbs. “I love you, George. I just want to help.”

Help how? The help Ringo would want to give wouldn’t be the help George wanted. Ringo would try to help him get rid of all his toys. George just wanted help feeling happy. But with Ringo’s hands caressing George’s face and shoulders, he somehow found the courage to speak. “I-I…I _am_ like a child.”

“Why do you think that?” Ringo asked. “You’re not still worried that you’re too young for me now that I’ve graduated, are you? You’re not a child.”

“N-no,” George whispered. “I…” He took a deep breath. “I like being like a child.”

Ringo’s hands stilled. “What do you mean?”

George couldn’t do this alone. He grabbed Ellie and pulled her into his lap, running his fingers over her fuzzy fur. “It makes me happy.”

“Lots of adults have stuffed animals,” Ringo said, confusion splashed across his face. “Why are you so worried about this?”

“It’s not that,” George said with his voice wavering. “When I hug my stuffies, or put on my happy socks, or play with my toys, I feel like I _am_ a kid.”

Ringo’s eyelids lowered in more confusion.

“I mean, I know I’m not really a kid,” George said. “But sometimes I start to think like one, and it just feels really nice, and it makes me happier and it feels right—and it’s not just me—there’s other people—it’s called age regression—”

“Shh,” Ringo said, wrapping his arms around him. “You’re gonna pass out if you don’t breathe soon.”

George sat frozen as Ringo’s hands slid up and down his back. “You don’t hate me?” he whispered.

“Why on earth would I hate you?”

Tears fell from George’s eyes again, but this time they were tears of relief. “I thought you’d think I was weird.”

“I love you, George. Nothing’s gonna change that.” Ringo paused. “Now, I’m not sure I understand this age suggestion—”

“Regression.”

“—regression…thing. But I _want_ to understand.”

George pulled away from the hug. “I can tell you more. Or show you? I’m not sure what you…what do you want?”

“I want you to keep taking deep breaths before you start panicking again,” Ringo said with a grin.

“B-but—”

“Don’t strain yourself to talk, love. We can talk about it whenever you’re ready.” He kissed the tip of George’s nose. “Now, should we start cooking dinner?”

“Oh.” George had forgotten about their dinner plans. “Yeah, I guess we, um, probably should. Right?”

Ringo cocked his head and stared. “If you want time to yourself, we can reschedule.”

“God, you’re the best.”

* * *

After eating some mac-and-cheese, George settled back onto the sofa by himself. He couldn’t believe how well things had gone with Ringo. Honestly, he hardly cared if Ringo ever truly “got” age regression. The fact that he was even willing to try was more than enough and made George cuddle Ellie extra tight as he watched his cartoon.

His phone buzzed, so he stretched across the sofa to grab it. His eyes widened when he saw the message.

Ringo had sent him a video. About age regression.

 _“Is this the rite thing?_ ”

George stared in shock at the screen. Ringo was genuinely trying to learn, and it meant the world to George.

A second message came through. “ _This isn’t so weird. Kinda endearing._ ”

A big smile spread across George’s face and a soft squeal left his mouth. He still didn’t feel like talking much, but he sent Ringo a couple heart emojis to let him know he was there.

Then, fifteen minutes later, Ringo sent another video. It was about how to be a caregiver for an age regressor. George hadn’t heard of that before, but after watching the video he thought having a caregiver sounded lovely. “ _What’s that one for?_ ” he asked Ringo.

George’s phone went off again. When he read the message, he couldn’t believe his eyes.

“ _Do u want me to be ur caregiver?_ ”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick update: I decided to stop posting this anonymously now, so uhhh...yeet. Hi it's me.

George read Ringo’s text again. Ringo wanted to be his caregiver? After watching the video Ringo had sent, George only had a vague idea of what that meant, but it sounded like it would be a lot of responsibility for Ringo. Did Ringo really want to look after him and take care of him while he was little? Did George even want him to?

Texting wasn’t going to cut it for this conversation.

“Hello?” Ringo said when he answered George’s call.

“Do you really mean that?” George asked with his knees curled up to his chest. “You’d do that for me?”

“Sure. I’ll give it a shot, if you want me to. Do you?”

George sighed. “Maybe. Probably. I’m not exactly sure what you’d be doing, though.”

“Well, me neither!” Ringo laughed. “You’re supposed to be the expert on this.”

“I’m not an expert, I just want to play with my toys!”

“How many toys have you got?”

Hesitating, George bit his lip. “Not too many. Just a few.”

Ringo hummed. “Maybe I can come over tomorrow and you could show me them?”

George hugged his knees tighter. “Sure. That’s—sure.”

“ _Are_ you sure? George, if you want this to be your own little playtime by yourself, I don’t have to get in the middle of that. I just don’t want you to feel like it _has_ to be your little secret.”

George considered it. “I…don’t like having to hide it. I’m just not sure you’ll like what you see.”

“I’ve seen you hundreds of times, George. I already know I love you. Don’t worry about what I’ll think. Just be yourself.”

Ringo truly was the best boyfriend in the world, George thought.

“So…will I see you tomorrow?” Ringo asked.

With a deep breath, George smiled. “Yeah. I can’t wait.”

* * *

As excited as George was to play with Ringo, his nerves were still high. He spent most of the night tossing and turning—which, of course, just made him slip into his little mindset faster the next day. It was probably for the best. He’d be too nervous to become little while Ringo was staring at him.

George cuddled up with his stuffed cat and watched cartoons to keep calm until Ringo arrived, but he was still nervous. Even if Ringo truly believed that he was okay with this, he could still change his mind. Maybe George should tell him to stay home.

But soon Ringo was knocking on the door, and now there was no turning back.

With Lucy still in his hands, George shuffled over to the door. “R-Ritchie?” he asked, simultaneously loving and hating how small his voice sounded.

“It’s just me, love,” Ritchie said, the sound of his voice already soothing George.

George unlocked the door and let Ringo step inside before quickly closing it again.

Ringo rubbed his hands together and turned toward George, who shifted under his gaze. “And who might this be?” Ringo asked sweetly as he pointed to the stuffie that was getting crushed in George’s nervous grip.

“It’s, um, my kitty,” George whispered, holding her up in front of his chest.

“Does the kitty have a name?”

“…Lucy.”

Ringo smiled. “A pretty name for a pretty kitty,” he said, booping Lucy on the nose.

Giggling, George tapped Lucy on the nose as well. She had such a cute little nose, he thought as he ran his hand across her back.

“Does Lucy have any friends? Besides you, of course,” Ringo said as he reached up to ruffle George’s hair.

George scrunched up his face and squealed at Ringo’s touch. Then he quickly regretted it and froze. He looked at Ringo in fear of what he’d think of the childish way he had just acted, but Ringo’s face had melted into a soft smile.

“Well?” Ringo encouraged. “Any other friends? …Maybe a teddy bear?”

“Bobby!” George said, brightening at the thought of his bear. “He’s with Ellie.”

“Then I think we better find Bobby and Ellie.”

“Yeah!” As George bounded off toward his bedroom, he started to relax even more. This wasn’t so hard. Ringo just wanted to meet his stuffies. And Ringo would never ever hurt them.

George jumped onto his bed and grabbed Bobby from his pillow. He held Bobby out to Ringo, who took a seat on the edge of the bed.

“Hello there, Bobby,” Ringo said pompously, extending his hand and shaking Bobby’s paw. “Ooh, very nice handshake. A little soft, but still nice.”

Laughing again, George extended his hands until Ringo placed Bobby into them. George sat Bobby and Lucy in his lap, and—“Ellie, I forgot Ellie!” He looked around the bed, but he couldn’t find her.

“Psst.” Ringo pointed to a lump under the covers. “I think she’s hiding.”

George’s eyes widened and his mouth opened into a tiny “o.” He bounced to the top of the bed and dove under the covers before emerging with Ellie in his hands.

“Woah,” Ringo gasped in pretend shock. “You’re very strong, carrying a whole elephant all by yourself.”

Looking down at Ellie in confusion, George squinted. “But…she’s a tiny elephant.”

Suddenly, Ringo’s expression changed. “Oh god, I’m sorry. Am I taking this too far? I’m not tryin’ to treat you like a baby. I’m just tryin’ to figure out what makes you happy.”

George stared. He didn’t like the way Ringo was frowning. Scooting forward, he wrapped his arms around Ringo. “You make me happy,” he muttered against Ringo’s shirt.

“Oh,” Ringo sighed, returning the hug.

George tried to squeeze Ringo even tighter and ended up pulling himself into Ringo’s lap. This was the first time he had sat in Ringo’s lap—well, the first time he had _innocently_ sat in his lap. It felt different. He felt safe, protected. He loved it.

Ringo shook free of George’s grip and stretched over to grab Ellie. “I think someone else wants a hug, too,” Ringo said, making Ellie dance up George’s leg.

There were plenty of hugs to go around. George squeezed Ellie tight, then looked to Ringo for approval.

The pure warmth in Ringo’s eyes spoke for itself. But to make things even better, Ringo pinched Ellie’s trunk and used it to tickle George’s neck.

George yelped and tried to wriggle his neck away, but Ringo kept going. With one more giggly shriek, George flopped out of Ringo’s lap and onto the bed. He rolled around as he caught his breath.

“What would you like to play next?” Ringo asked, smiling down at him.

Sticking out his bottom lip, George shrugged. “I dunno. What d’you wanna play?”

“ _Anything_ you want.”

George’s mouth spread into a huge smile and he raised his hands to his face in excitement. This was the best day of his life.


	5. Chapter 5

“So? What do you wanna play, George?”

With Ringo patiently smiling at him, George’s mind raced. Ringo said they could play anything he wanted, but George just wanted to do everything. They could make Lego towers, or have a tea party with his stuffies, or—

“Draw pictures!”

Ringo’s smile grew bigger. “That’s a wonderful idea. Do you have art supplies we can use?”

George nodded.

“Then let’s go get them.”

Holding Ellie’s paw in one hand and holding Ringo’s hand with the other, George rushed back to the living room and slid down in front of his cabinet. “It’s in here,” he said, grabbing his crayons and markers from inside. “You want coloring books, or plain paper?”

“I’ll take some blank paper, see what my silly brain can come up with.”

“Me too!” George ran to the other side of the room to grab paper for them.

“Careful—don’t fall,” Ringo called after him.

But George didn’t bother to pay attention to his warning. When he returned to where Ringo was sitting in front of the coffee table, George dropped onto the floor too enthusiastically. “Ow,” he whined, rubbing his knees where they had smacked against the ground.

“You alright, sweetie?” Ringo nudged George’s hand out of the way and ran his thumb over his knee.

“Yeah,” George said quietly as Ringo’s touch distracted him from the pain. Hearing Ringo call him “sweetie” wasn’t so bad, either.

They each grabbed a sheet of paper and got started. George worked on filling his sheet with as many flowers as he could. It didn’t matter if they were drawn correctly as long as they made a pretty rainbow. Before long, his page was full and he didn’t know what to do with his markers. So, he poked the tip of the purple marker against the back of his hand and giggled as he drew another flower.

“Whatcha doin’ there, Georgie?”

“It’s tickly,” George said as he kept dragging the marker against his skin.

“It’ll get more tickly if your garden keeps escaping the paper.” Ringo tickled from George’s hand up to his armpit, making him laugh even harder. Once he stopped, Ringo looked closer at George’s sheet. “Your flowers are beautiful.”

George beamed at him, then scooted closer. “What’re you drawing?”

“Us.”

Surprised, George looked at the page. He saw himself sitting on top of a mountain of stuffed animals while Ringo stood off to the side. And both of them had massive smiles.

“I don’t know if more stuffies is what you want, or if there’s some other toys you want, but I was thinking you could keep this. In case you need a reminder of how much I love you for exactly who you are.”

Maybe it was how sweet Ringo was being or how little George was feeling, but George burst into tears.

“Oh god. Oh Georgie, what’s wrong?”

George buried his face against Ringo’s shirt and hugged him. “I wuv you.”

“Aww. I love you too, cutie pie,” Ringo said as he kissed the top of his head and rubbed his back. “Now, do you want to hang up your masterpiece somewhere?”

“Yeah!” George said, rubbing his eyes dry. “They go in my closet.”

“No one’s gonna be able to see them in there, silly.”

George’s smile fell. “Yeah.”

A look of realization came across Ringo’s face. “Oh. That’s okay. You don’t have to keep your closet closed when I’m here.”

George didn’t know what to say, so he just gave him another hug.

“Alrighty, cuddly boy, let’s go hang these up.”

They made their way back to the bedroom, and George opened his closet door to expose his other pictures.

“You did all of these?” Ringo asked, taking a moment to look at each and every picture hanging on the door. “These look great.”

George looked down shyly. “Yours is better.”

“Nah. I think yours are wonderful.” He hung up his own piece off to the side of George’s creations. He then reached for the one in George’s hands, but George didn’t let go. “Would you like to hang it up yourself?” Ringo asked.

George mumbled something.

“What’s that, love?”

“…Do you wanna keep it?”

Ringo’s eyes widened. “You want to give it to me?”

“S’okay if you don’t want it.”

“Georgie, I’d be honored to have it.” He gently took the drawing from George’s hands and admired it again. “Thank you.”

After being little for so long, George started to feel a bit bigger. “Thank you, too. This was…incredible.”

Ringo cocked his head. “Your voice is getting deeper again. Are you done?”

“I think. For now.”

Suddenly, Ringo was the one who looked nervous. “How’d I do? Was I any good?”

“Uh, _yes_. Oh my god Ritchie, this was—” George broke off into another short giggle. “This was the most fun I’ve had in a long time.”

“I had fun, too,” Ringo said, glancing down at George’s drawing.

“Really? Does that mean we can do this again?” George asked, bouncing slightly.

“Absolutely. I wanna see more of this cute little boy.” Ringo grabbed George’s hand and traced the flower he had drawn.

“God, you’re the best,” George said, leaning in to give his boyfriend a quick kiss. “Do you maybe want to keep hanging out today? As adults?”

“Do you even have to ask?” Ringo laughed. “Netflix?”

“Hell yes. Let’s be lazy.” George left the closet door open as they returned to the living room where the markers and crayons were still scattered across the table. He had never felt more at home.


	6. Chapter 6

Thanks to Ringo, George was the happiest boy in the world. They had even more playdates over the next week, and George was growing more comfortable sharing this side of himself with Ringo.

Sometimes they barely had to change their usual routine. As George snuggled up on Ringo’s lap with in front of the TV, it could have just been a typical date—except for the simplistic cartoon they were watching and the way George occasionally stuck his thumb in his mouth, of course.

“You need anything, sweetie?” Ringo asked for the dozenth time that hour. He was embracing the caregiver role to the fullest, and George loved the attention.

“Huggies,” George said, sticking his arms out.

“I just gave you huggies,” Ringo laughed, but he happily hugged him anyways.

George squealed and wrapped his arms around Ringo as tightly as he could. Maybe he could make this hug last forever! But Ringo took a big breath and made his arms stretch, and his muscles were getting tired…In the end, George let go, but he still nuzzled into Ringo’s neck.

“Someone’s a happy little boy today,” Ringo said, leaning away from the tickles.

George just scooted in closer and giggled.

“You’re very cute like this, you know?”

“Mm-hm!” George _did_ know. Ringo had told him that a million times, but this time made George beam as much as the last.

Smiling, Ringo brushed his fingers through George’s hair. And he tilted in closer until their lips were almost touching—

George flinched back, turning his head away.

“George? Are you alright?”

With wide eyes, George stared at Ringo in silence. _Was_ he alright? Shouldn’t he want to kiss his boyfriend? He thought so, but right now the thought of pressing his slimy lips against someone else’s just sounded…yucky. “Um,” George began, fidgeting with his fingers. “I don’t want kissies,” he muttered.

“What?”

“Kissies are for grown-ups.”

Ringo’s eyes widened in realization. “Oh god—love, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I wasn’t thinkin’ straight. I shouldn’t have—oh my god.”

Even though George was still reeling from the attempted kiss, he didn’t like seeing Ringo upset like this. “I’m sorry,” George whispered.

“Oh, honey.” Ringo grabbed George’s face and cradled it in his hands. “You don’t need to apologize to me.”

“B-but I made you sad.”

“I’m not sad, sweetheart. I want to be here for my little Georgie in whatever way you need me. You make me so happy.”

George sniffed. “I do?”

“Always. Especially your smile.” Ringo poked George’s cheek until he cracked a smile, and the smile reflected twice as wide on Ringo’s face. “I love you so much George. Every bit of you.”

“Love you, too.” They sat in each other’s embrace, letting the current episode on the TV roll through the credits. Once Netflix asked if they were still watching, George looked over at Ringo, feeling a bit bigger. “Ritchie?”

“Yeah?”

“I _am_ sorry—”

“No. Please don’t apologize.”

“I’m not apologizing for that,” George said. “I’ve been so excited about you being my caregiver that I’ve kind of forgotten that you’re my boyfriend, too. I keep calling you over to play—and it’s fabulous, it really is—but it’s been an entire week since we’ve had, you know, a real date. I miss that. And I think it’s safe to say that you miss that, too.”

“Oops,” Ringo said sheepishly as his cheeks turned pink.

“How about tomorrow night we have a date night? And you can get as many kisses as you’d like.”

“I like the sound of that,” Ringo said. “But, for the record, I quite enjoy your ‘huggies,’ too.”

“Good. There’s gonna be a lot more of those coming up as well.”

Ringo smiled. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

* * *

George checked his outfit in the mirror. His maroon button-down and black jeans looked _good_. He knew he didn’t particularly need to dress up since he and Ringo had been together for over a year now, but after all the lovely things Ringo had done for him, George wanted to return the favor.

After one last glance, George grabbed his keys and headed down the street to the restaurant. Ringo was on his phone, leaning against the windows when George walked up, and when he caught sight of George, he practically dropped his phone.

“Alright?” George asked, cocking his head.

“Y-yeah. It’s just been a while since I’ve seen you in something so…tight.”

Smirking, George grabbed Ringo’s chin and tilted it up to stop him from looking at his pants. “You can stare later. Right now, it’s food time.”

“Hah, typical,” Ringo scoffed playfully as George held the door open for him.

George was thrilled that they had arranged this date night. It felt incredible to be flirting with Ringo again—and for Ringo to flirt back to see who could make the other more flustered. As usual, they both won.

The time flew by. Once the sun had set, leaving only the dim glow of the chandeliers and candles, the couple left hand in hand to return to Ringo’s flat. “Don’t judge me for the mess,” Ringo said as he unlocked the door.

“Darling, I’m sure it’s fine—oh, wow.”

“I said _no judging_ ,” Ringo repeated as he threw his jacket onto a pile of jackets. George used all his strength to keep his mouth shut.

“So,” George said averting his eyes from the mess to put his leftovers in the refrigerator, “What’s the plan for tonight?”

“I dunno. What do you wanna do?”

“Ugh, we’re at your flat. You have to pick.”

“Damn. So much pressure,” Ringo teased.

George shut the refrigerator and turned toward Ringo—until something caught his eye. He glanced back at the fridge and saw his very own flower garden drawing hung up by a heart-shaped magnet.

“I say we go with our classic date night closer,” Ringo said from the other room. “Pick the trashiest movie we can find and snog all the way through it.”

“…You saved it?”

“Huh?”

“My drawing.” George unpinned it from the fridge and carried it to the other room. “You kept it.”

“Of course I did,” Ringo stated plainly. “You gave it to me.”

“And you hung it up?”

“Obviously. How else would I be able to look at it?”

The paper shook in his hands. No matter how many times Ringo reassured him that he loved his little side, George still had doubts that Ringo liked it as much as he said he did. But there in his hands was proof that even when George wasn’t around to see it, Ringo still cared. Ringo was proud of him, proud enough to hang up his art where he could see it every day. George had never been so touched.

“Is it alright that I put it up?” Ringo asked nervously. “I can take it down.”

The drawing fluttered to the ground as George pulled Ringo into a hug. “Don’t take it down. That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever done for me.” He cupped Ringo’s cheek and gave him a soft, slow kiss. “Thank you.”

“Wow. I must have done something really right if it earned me a kiss.”

“Oh, shut up,” George laughed, swatting his shoulder. “Now let’s pick a movie so we can kiss more.”

“Not yet,” Ringo said, grabbing the drawing from the floor, smoothing out the creases, and hanging it back up. “There. Now let’s find something bad to watch.”

Ringo was going to get a hell of a lot of kisses tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while since I've updated this fic, but I hope you enjoy the new chapter! 
> 
> (For anyone who's waiting on a fic request: I'm hoping to get back to those this weekend! I just needed a quick break to work on my comfort fic, haha.)


	7. Chapter 7

It wasn’t long before George started running low on time for both playdates and regular dates. There were too many exams and projects for school, and it was taking all of George’s energy. He wanted to spend more time with Ringo, but all they could manage most weeks was Ringo watching Netflix while George hunched over a book in the other room.

It was already bad enough that George couldn’t spend proper time with Ringo, and it only made matters worse when he woke Ringo up in the middle of the night with his “ _help me I’m dying_ ” texts. He was dragging Ringo down with him, and he felt terrible about it.

Then George had to cancel their plans for the third weekend in a row. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered into his phone as he held his blankie like he wished he could hold Ringo.

“I thought I told you to stop sayin’ that.”

“Sorry.”

Ringo sighed. “It’s _okay_ , Georgie. We’ve got all the time in the world. Just promise me you’re taking care of yourself.”

“…Sure.”

“George.”

George tugged at the loose, fuzzy strands on his blanket. “I’m fine. I’m sleeping…sometimes. And I’m eating. I even had some vegetables the other day. And—” he paused to yawn. “And I actually did the dishes earlier today…well…half the dishes.”

“Love, you sound exhausted.”

“Yeah, no shit,” George snapped. “Fuck, I didn’t mean—I’m sorry.”

“George, it’s okay. I love you. Now please, take some deep breaths. And give Ellie a big hug.”

Surprised, George glanced at where Ellie was lying next to him on the sofa. “How’d you know I had Ellie here?”

“‘Cause her trunk helps her give the comfiest hugs, and you better be giving yourself the best hugs you can get right now.”

George didn’t think Ringo had remembered when he told him that. “Okay. I’ll give her lots of hugs.”

“Good. I love you.”

“Love you, too.” George grabbed Ellie as soon as he hung up. He was going to need lots of hugs to make it through the day.

* * *

Somehow, George managed to make some good progress on his essay. Maybe he wouldn’t have to settle for “passing” this time; it might actually qualify as “good.” He was just about to start the next paragraph when his phone rang.

“Ritchie? What’s up?”

“How’s the work going?”

“Honestly, it’s pretty great. I’ve gotten a lot done.”

“Perfect!” Ringo yelled so proudly that George could hear his smile through the phone. “I have a surprise for you and I’m on my way over.”

George’s heart dropped. “You know I’d love to see you, but I need to get this done, babe.”

“Just trust me. If you hate the surprise you can send me back home. But at least give it a chance.”

It _would_ be nice to hold Ringo, if only for a few minutes. “Alright. Come on over.”

George tried to stay focused while he waited for Ringo, but he ended up on Snapchat instead. He hastily closed the app when he got up to let Ringo inside. “Hey,” George said, leaning in for a kiss. But his lips crashed into Ringo’s cheek when Ringo turned his head to the side. “Um…what was that?” George asked.

“No kisses now, kiddo,” Ringo said, waggling a finger as he lugged a huge bag inside.

“I’m not little right now,” George laughed.

“Just wait till you see what I bought for you.” Ringo ushered George over to the couch and plopped the bag in front of him. “Since you’ve been doing a dreadful job of looking after yourself—hey, don’t give me that look. I’m right and you know it. Anyway, you deserve to be pampered. And since you weren’t going to do it yourself…”

Ringo reached into the bag and pulled out an adorable pillow with “Sleep tight, little one” embroidered on the front. “It’s time for you to have an extra-special naptime to give you the energy for all your studying.”

As George held his new fluffy pillow and traced his fingers across the starry galaxies stitched into it, he felt his heart melt. “You got this for me?” he asked as he felt the pillow against his cheek and smiled at how soft it was.

“Of course, little one,” Ringo said, poking George’s nose. “I got you somethin’ else too, but it’s a bit… _more_. I’m not sure you’ll like it.”

“What is it?” George asked, trying to peer into the bag. Before he could sneak a peek, Ringo took it out of the bag completely.

George stared with wide eyes at Ringo. Or, rather, at the enormous, black onesie Ringo was holding. The fuzzy legs stretched down to the ground, and the hood at the top had tiny little cat ears. “There’s more,” Ringo said, flipping it around to show off the tail. “What do you think?”

“I can…I can be a kitty,” George whispered.

“The cutest kitty in the world.”

“I can be a _kitty_ ,” George squeaked, grabbing the outfit and squealing again at how fluffy it was.

“I also got these.” Ringo held up a pair of long, fuzzy socks that matched the onesie. “In case your smelly toes get cold.”

“I’m not smelly,” George pouted, but he happily took the socks as well.

“If you like it better with the socks, I could sew them on for you sometime.”

That idea sounded amazing, but George wanted to try on his new favorite outfit as soon as possible. He bounced up and down as he asked Ringo if he could wear it.

“Go get comfy,” Ringo said, nodding toward the bedroom.

A few minutes later, Ringo came to the bedroom with the pillow George had forgotten.

“We’re twins!” George yelled as he shoved Lucy in Ringo’s face.

“Y-yes, yes you are,” Ringo laughed, taking a step back and lightly moving the stuffed cat back toward George. “How will I ever tell you two apart? Are you Lucy?” He asked George, patting his head and squinting in concentration.

“Noooooo,” George giggled, running over to his bed and jumping onto it so quickly that the springs creaked. Then he gasped. “My pillow!” He stretched his arms toward Ritchie and the pillow that he had forgotten yet again.

Sighing, Ringo laid the pillow on the bed. “There.” He leaned over to kiss George’s forehead. “Sweet dreams, Georgie.”

“I’m not sleepy.”

“What?”

George bounced on the bed a bit more and laughed at the way the hood flopped over his eyes with every bounce. “I’m too happy to sleep.”

Ringo took a seat next to him. “Sweetie, it’s great that you love your surprise, but I thought you were exhausted?”

“Nope,” George yawned. “Not sleepy.”

“Hmm,” Ringo said, taking George’s hand and helping him lie down. “This kitty outfit looks really comfortable. Do you think it would be even more comfy with some blankets?”

Well, George _did_ have the cuddliest blankets ever. He nodded, and Ringo carefully placed Lucy in his arms and covered him with the blankets.

“Look at you,” Ringo said as he finished tucking George in. “You’re like a big, cuddly, kitty-burrito. I could eat you right up.” He pretended to gobble up George’s face, making him shriek with laughter. Once they caught their breath, Ringo tried again. “Are you ready to sleep now?”

Buried under the covers and surrounded by pure fluff, George did feel a bit sleepier. And Ringo was right—he could use a break from school. He just wasn’t sure he’d be able to fall asleep quickly. More importantly, he didn’t want Ringo to go away.

An idea struck George. “Ritchie, could you…um…”

Ringo squeezed his hand.

“…Could you sing to me?”

“George, my voice is awful.”

“No, it’s not,” George retorted, angry that anyone could ever dislike Ringo’s voice. George thought back to all his favorite songs from his childhood. “Can you sing ‘Twinkle Twinkle?’”

“Ugh, fine.” Ringo gently rubbed his hand over the hood on George’s head and began to sing. His deep voice soothed George immediately, and George’s eyelids fluttered closed. When Ringo stood up to shut off the light and close the blinds, George drifted off more. The last thing he remembered hearing was Ringo whispering, “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

* * *

George jolted awake at the sound of something in his room crashing to the floor.

“Sorry!” Ringo yelled as George tried to get his heart under control.

“Wha’ happened?” George whimpered, clutching Lucy close.

“I’m sorry—I was about to go back to the other room, but I wanted to look at your drawings again. And I bumped into something and knocked it all over.”

George’s eyes finally adjusted, and he saw Ringo standing in his closet surrounded by a bunch of his junk. “How long was I sleepin’?”

“…About three minutes.” Ringo really took clumsy to a whole new level. “You just close your eyes, I’ll tidy this up.”

Normally George would offer to help, but he was too sleepy to think clearly. “‘Kay ‘kay.” He ran his hands over the fabric of the onesie as Ringo quietly piled everything back into the closet. It didn’t take long before George approached sleep again.

“Um,” Ringo said from the closet, and George forced one eye open. “What’s this for?” Ringo spun around with a curious expression, holding a small box George hadn’t seen in a while. He forgot that he had bought that.

He forgot that Ringo might find it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I incorrectly assumed that I mentioned this earlier, but if you haven't noticed yet, I don't particularly have much of a plot planned for this fic. It's basically just a collection of snapshots from their life. So if you came here looking for plot, this is your cue to turn back XD


	8. Chapter 8

George held Lucy tight as he stared at the box in Ringo’s hands.

“Is this a pacifier?” Ringo asked, scanning the text on the box.

George nodded slowly.

“Well, why’s it hiding all the way back there? It’s hard to reach it.” As Ringo headed toward the bed, he tried to open the box, but the tape over the end stopped him. “You’ve never used it before?”

“No,” George whispered.

Ringo sat next to George and pulled him close. “Do you _want_ to use it?”

What was George supposed to say? Not even he knew the answer. The paci had always been a “just in case” item for him. When he saw other age regressors share photos with their pacis, it looked so nice. But when he looked at his own and imagined what it would look like in his mouth, it felt scary. Like even little George was too much of a big boy for something so infantile.

Yet, something still compelled him to buy it anyway.

“Do you just want to go back to sleep, angel?” Ringo said, pulling back the hood of George’s onesie slightly to look into his eyes.

Why wasn’t Ringo more concerned about the paci? George knew Ringo was accepting as heck, but surely that was too much even for him. George was too weird, and Ringo deserved better.

“Oh, love,” Ringo cooed, wiping moisture from George’s cheeks. George hadn’t noticed he was crying. “Shh, it’s okay, Georgie. I’ve got you. Poor thing, you’re so tired.”

Before Ringo could pull his hand away, George grabbed it and held on tight. He smushed Ringo’s fingers against his damp eyes, but he was too focused on stopping Ringo from leaving him to feel bad about getting him wet.

“George,” Ringo said gently, shifting his hand over to cradle George’s cheek. “I’m going to try something, alright? Can I have my hand back?”

It took a couple scary seconds, but Ringo’s pretty eyes convinced George to let go. George watched teary-eyed as Ringo opened the box and pulled out the bright purple pacifier. One of Ringo’s hands rubbed circles into George’s back as the other brought the paci to his lips. “It’s right here if you want it, honey. All you have to do is open your mouth. You can spit it right back out if it’s no good.”

The tip of the paci rested against George’s quivering lip. It was right there. Without thinking, George opened his mouth and let it slip inside. Once his mouth closed around it, George’s breathing started to stabilize. The reassuring weight in his mouth grounded him, it made him feel safe.

“How’s that?”

George looked up at Ringo, and suddenly Ringo looked so much bigger. George didn’t have to be scared, he didn’t have to cry. His big, strong Ritchie would take care of him. “Mm,” George hummed around his paci as he sniffled one last time.

“There’s my sweet Georgie,” Ringo whispered, kissing George’s nose. “I’ll be in the living room when you wake up—and I won’t knock over anything this time.”

George giggled around the paci, and he giggled harder at the way the plastic guard felt against his lips and how the nipple squished between his teeth. Feeling even more peaceful and cozy than before, George floated back to sleep.

* * *

When George awoke, he felt warmer and comfier than he ever had. He stretched out his arms and legs like a big starfish and let out a huge sigh.

That’s when he noticed that something was in his mouth.

The memories rushed back. Ringo finding the paci. Ringo _putting the paci in his mouth_. Like he was a _baby_.

This was humiliating.

George’s vision blurred, and whines escaped around the sides of the pacifier. He was twenty years old. This wasn’t right. He was taking things too far, he shouldn’t want this. Tears spilled onto his cheeks. Ringo was already sacrificing so much of his time for his dumb, toddler boyfriend. He shouldn’t have to deal with an incompetent baby throwing temper tantrums, too.

“George?” Ringo yelled, bursting through the door. “Are you alright?”

At the sight of Ringo, George spat out the pacifier in embarrassment. His sobs immediately grew louder.

“I’ve got ya, I’ve got ya,” Ringo said. He rushed to George’s side and grabbed the pacifier from where it rolled onto the floor. After wiping it off on his shirt, he brought it back up to George’s mouth.

George swatted it out of his hands and cried harder. Great. Even without the paci, he was still acting like a baby. Maybe Ringo would finally come to his senses and leave him like he should have weeks ago.

“Shh,” Ringo whispered, pulling George into his lap and rocking him back and forth. “I’m here. Think about happy thoughts, little kitten.” He patted the cat ears of George’s onesie. “Think about pretty flowers in all the colors of the rainbow. A big, huge field of them. And you, me, Lucy, Ellie, and Bobby having a picnic right in the middle of it.”

George shut his eyes and imagined the field. He liked flowers. Flowers were pretty. They didn’t make him cry.

“There’s big, tall yellow flowers, and itty-bitty purple ones—and tons of dandelions for you to make wishes on,” Ringo continued. “What do you wish for?” he asked, poking George’s tummy.

Eyes flying open from Ringo’s poke, George stared at him. He tried to speak, but all that came out was a whimper.

“You know what I’d wish for?” Ringo asked while bouncing George closer to hold him tighter against his chest. “The biggest hug in the world.” He looked up at George. “What d’you say, kiddo? Wanna make my wish come true?”

George flung his arms around Ringo and squeezed as tightly as he could. No amount of shame could make him turn down a hug from Ringo. As a few more tears rolled down his cheeks, George let Ringo hold him and sway side to side.

“You give the best hugs,” Ringo whispered.

“No, you do,” George tried to say, but it came out all slurred and squeaky.

“Georgie,” Ringo began, his voice sounding more serious, “I know this is all still new to us, but I’m here to help you feel happy and comfortable. This shouldn’t be a stressful thing for you—if it is, then what’s the point, right? So…if I’m ever doing something you don’t like, tell me. Or show me, if you can’t use your words. That’s okay, too.”

George thought back to when he slapped the pacifier out of Ringo’s hands. Was Ringo really not upset with him for that?

“I love you, alright?” Ringo said. “I never want you to forget that.”

Blinking back the last of his tears, George murmured a thank you into Ringo’s shirt.

“Anytime, angel.” Ringo kissed the side of his head and loosened his grip to look George in the eyes. “Now, is there anything I can do to make this up to you?”

‘ _Make this up to you?_ ’ Did Ringo blame himself for George’s outburst? “No, y-you…it’s….”

“I never want to make you cry, George. I want to make sure you don’t have to cry.”

George didn’t know how to explain it to Ringo. “ _I_ made me cwy.”

Ringo looked at him in surprise. “You? Why?”

Avoiding Ringo’s gaze, George glanced toward the pacifier. “No wanna look like a baby.”

“Love, you don’t have to use the pacifier if you don’t like it.”

“But iss comfy,” George blurted out before he even realized he was thinking such a thing.

A few pieces clicked into place. “You feel like it’s wrong to like your paci?”

George hid his mouth with a loose fist and nodded.

“Hey,” Ringo said gently, squeezing George’s shoulder. “I promise, I don’t care what things you wear or do. I just want you to be happy. And there’s nothin’ wrong with babies. Babies are cute. But if you don’t want to look like a baby, then you’ll be big boy George with his big boy paci. _You_ make the rules here. This can be anything you want it to be. Alright?”

Slowly, George nodded again.

“Good.” Ringo kissed his head again. “What would you like to do now?”

George’s eyes wandered to his paci again. With his heart racing, he raised a shaky finger to point to it.

Ringo smiled warmly as he returned it to George’s mouth. “It looks so lovely, Georgie. And it’s your favorite color, too—you picked the perfect one.”

Blushing, George gently sucked on his paci, trying to focus on how nice it felt in his mouth and not how foolish he looked.

“If you’ve had enough sleep, want to watch a quick episode of PAW Patrol?”

Now _that_ sounded fun. George latched onto Ringo’s hand as Ringo led them back to the living room. The embarrassment was already starting to fade a little. It would take longer for George to feel truly comfortable with this, but knowing that Ringo was always there to help was a good start.


	9. Chapter 9

With George’s birthday on the horizon, he and Ringo started making plans. This year’s celebration would be extra special for two reasons. First, since their relationship had been very new the previous year, this would be their first time celebrating George’s birthday as a serious couple. Second, they were celebrating twice.

George still wanted time to celebrate with his friends, but Ringo wanted to make sure that little George had the party of his dreams as well. So, they were hitting the bars on Friday night and having the best play time in the world on Saturday. George didn’t know exactly what Ringo had in store for him—Ringo wanted it to be a surprise—but George knew that whatever it was would be lovely.

The first order of business, though, was getting absolutely wasted. “Bappy hirthday, Georgie,” Ringo slurred, smooching his beer then trying to pour George into his mouth.

George giggled hysterically. “Thank you, my love, my angel, my king, my prince—”

“I’m a king _and_ a prince?”

“Yeah.” George pressed their noses together until they were both smushed. “B’cause you’re as hot as two people in one.”

“Awwww,” Ringo cooed as he tried to kiss him but slipped off his stool instead.

“Good lord,” Paul muttered as he helped Ringo to his feet, John facepalming behind them. “To think _you_ were almost our designated driver.”

“I drive so good,” Ringo insisted as he tried to balance on his stool. Paul kept a hand on him just in case.

“Hey,” George pouted, pointing at Paul. “Hands off boyfriend—my Ritchie.”

“No one’s stealing your boyfriend,” John griped.

George kept frowning and turned to Klaus for backup.

Grinning, Klaus egged him on. “Steal him back. Show Paul who is the boss.”

That was all it took for George to stand up on his wobbly legs and attempt to climb into Ringo’s lap. Paul glared at Klaus as the couple slipped off the stool.

They didn’t last much longer at the bar, and soon they were out in the cool air stumbling along the pavement. In a brilliant stroke of logic, George and Ringo clung to each other to avoid falling down. Paul kept a very close eye on them while John took pictures.

“Whaddya wanna do next, Georgie?” Ringo said.

“I know a nice bar on the next street,” Klaus said before asking John to send him the photos.

George hiccuped and nuzzled against Ringo’s shoulder. “Wanna go home and play.”

Ringo tensed, but the others started snickering. “What kind of naughty games do you lads have planned for tonight?” John said.

George hugged Ringo tighter. “Nooooo, I want—”

“S’none of your business,” Ringo said.

“Alright.” John shrugged. “Keep your kinks to yourself then.”

“We will,” Ringo said.

George was about to tell John that he didn’t want that at all and he just wanted his stuffies, but Ringo gave him such a nice hug and smushed George’s face against his shoulder that he forgot what he was going to say.

Thank god Paul was able to drive them all home safely—with Ringo crashing at George’s place. John would have been disappointed to find that all they did was get into pyjamas and snuggle until they fell asleep, but George wasn’t disappointed in the least.

Until he woke up the next morning.

He groaned at the stupid sun hurting his eyes and rolled over.

“You too, huh?” Ringo was next to him, holding a hand over his eyes.

“Why the fuck did we drink so much?”

“Because we’re bloody idiots.”

George lifted up the covers. “Well, I have clothes on, so at least we didn’t invite everyone for an orgy.”

Ringo laughed. “God, no. You were feeling way too little for that.”

 _Oh no._ George scrunched the blankets in his hands. “I…I was? Were the others still there?”

“Hey, it’s alright,” Ringo said, running his fingers through George’s hair. “They didn’t know what you were talking about, and I stopped you from saying anything too revealing.”

“You’re sure?”

Ringo kissed his cheek. “Absolutely.”

“Alright.”

“… _Are_ you alright?”

Sighing, George looked down. “How the hell did I start doing that when I was drunk? Beer isn’t exactly something that should make me feel like a kid.”

“Beer does lots of strange things to our minds,” Ringo said with a laugh, making George wince.

“Why are you laughing?” George muttered. “I can’t let anyone find out about this.”

“I know about it.” Ringo nudged his shoulder. “I still love you, don’t I?”

“But you found out by accident. And other people won’t be as nice about it.”

“I’m sure they’d be okay with it once they learn—”

“ _No._ ”

Ringo stared at George as he took shaky breaths. George hadn’t meant to be so snappy with him, but Ringo didn’t get it. It was scary. And this was too personal to George to share with anyone besides Ringo.

“Georgie,” Ringo said, hugging him tight, “I’m not going to make you share this with anyone. I promise.”

Burying his head in Ringo’s shirt, George returned the hug. “I know you won’t.” He pulled his knees against his chest. “But if I came this close to showing everyone once, I’ll probably do it again. What am I supposed to do?”

“That was just because your brain was fuzzy from the beer, that’s all.”

“Was it? What if I’m at school and I start feeling little?”

Ringo paused, trying to figure out what to say. “Isn’t it…is it usually in your control?”

“Yeah, but if I get too stressed and I can’t stop it, what do I do?”

“You can call me.”

“B-but what if I can’t?”

Ringo squeezed him tighter. “I’m…not sure. But we’ll think of something, alright? It’ll be okay.”

“Okay.” Hopefully George could push his fears aside and enjoy part two of his birthday celebration. “So, what’s this big birthday surprise you’ve been hiding from me?”

Ringo’s eyes widened. “Oh, shit. We, um, might want to change plans.”

“Why?”

“I was going to take you to Build-A-Bear for a new stuffie.”

George gasped and bounced to face Ringo. “Really?” He’d get to make his very own stuffie. And the store had so many options—

And so many people. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Ringo scratched his neck. “We can do something else instead. Or you can tell me what bear you want and I can get it for you?”

George bit his lip. He really wanted to go to the store. “Could we…could we still go?”

“Of course. But will you be alright?”

Until the previous night, George didn’t have much trouble controlling when he regressed. “I think so. I want to try.”

Ringo smiled. “Perfect. But first, I’m going to drink a bunch of water and try not to puke my guts out.”

“Same.”

* * *

By the time they reached the store, George was growing more nervous. Ringo grabbed his hand and squeezed. “You’re sure about this?”

George looked around at the dozens of stuffie options. How could he possibly say no to this heaven? “Will people think it’s odd that I’m getting one?” he whispered.

“Naw,” Ringo said, nodding in the direction of a group of girls just a couple years younger than them. “Everyone loves Build-A-Bear.”

But George stayed frozen in the doorway.

“What if I get a bear, too? Take some of the attention away from you.”

“Would you really do that for me?”

“I’d do anything for you.” Ringo stepped toward a cute brown bear with long, slightly curly fur and poked its paw. “Besides, these _are_ pretty damn cute.”

George couldn’t agree more.

“Now, which one would you like?”

“All of them,” George said breathlessly.

Laughing, Ringo dragged him over to the display. “Let’s start with one, love.”

George stifled a whine and looked over the row of toys. There were several classic teddy bears, plus a couple other animals—he even spotted a Minion. He picked up a couple of them and brushed his fingers over the fur. Ringo made a show of looking at the animals too, but George caught him glancing over at him and smiling. It made George smile, too.

Then George caught sight of an animal so fluffy it made him gasp. He rushed over to pick up the lion and threaded the fur of its mane between his fingers.

“That one’s cute,” Ringo said, gently resting his hand on George’s hip.

George nodded excitedly. “I wanna pick him,” he said, grabbing an un-stuffed lion from the bin below. “Did you pick one?”

Ringo held up the brown bear he had looked at when they walked in. “Can’t go wrong with the classics.”

Together, they brought their new friends to the worker in charge of stuffing them. Then they each picked out a tiny cloth heart to place inside.

The worker leaned in closer to them. “We have a little heart ceremony we do for the kids, but I can cut it short for you if you’d like.”

“Come on now,” Ringo said with a huge grin. “Don’t hold back. We want the full experience.” He flashed George a wink as the employee shrugged and launched into her speech.

She had them rub the heart on their arms, on their knees, and their feet. To finish off, they got to make a wish. George closed his eyes and tried to think of a wish, but with Ringo right next to him, he already had so much more than he’d ever expected. In the end, he wished for more stuffies and that they’d all be friends.

The staff member told them to finish by kissing the heart, and George felt a rush of happiness bubble up inside him as he did so. They placed the little squishy hearts inside. Then, to George’s delight, she asked them to give the stuffies their first hug to test out the level of stuffing. The hug was so perfect, George almost squealed.

She sent them over to the clothes display where George’s eyes widened at even more options. There were so many styles and colors. He grabbed one of the tiny pairs of trainers and checked the price tag.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

George stuffed the shoes back onto the rack and looked at Ringo. “Sorry. I know it’s expensive.”

“Don’t do that,” Ringo said in a soft voice. “Kids shouldn’t need to worry about prices, especially for their birthday present. You just pick out anything you want and let me take care of the rest.”

“Really?”

Ringo nodded.

George resisted the urge to scoop an entire shelf into his arms, and he kept looking. He landed on a pair of yellow shoes, jean shorts, and a red t-shirt with a heart in the middle. He also saw a super sparkly crown and set it on his lion’s head.

Turning to Ringo, George held out his lion for approval. “That looks lovely!” Ringo showed off his bear’s new colorful pyjamas. “Wanted to make sure he’s nice and comfy.”

The last step was to give them a birth certificate. The man at the computer asked George for his lion’s name. “Ritchie,” he said without thinking, and his cheeks grew warm. He caught Ringo’s cheeks turning pink as well. His cheeks were burning by the time Ringo named his bear Georgie.

They left the store hand in hand with their new stuffies in bags by their sides. As soon as they got to the privacy of the car, George pulled out his lion and squeezed him tight. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” he squealed.

“You’re welcome, angel,” Ringo said. “You didn’t have to name him after me.”

“I wanted to.” George ran his fingers over Ritchie’s mane.

“You’re sweet,” Ringo said, ruffling George’s hair. “But I think George would have been a good name for your lion, too.”

George’s face fell. “You don’t like his name?”

“Oh no, I _love_ it. But you’re just like a lion.”

George giggled. “Nooooo.”

“Yessss,” Ringo insisted. “You’re so strong, and you have so much courage.” He reached over to squeeze George’s hand. “I’m so proud of you for doing this today. I know it was scary to be in public after last night, but you did so well. And nobody noticed a thing.”

Smiling widely, George pulled Ringo’s arm to his chest and hugged it tight.

“Okay, but I do need to keep driving, love,” Ringo said, tightening his grip on the wheel with his free hand.

“Oops.” George let him have his hand back and held up Ritchie like he was in _The Lion King_.

At the next stoplight, Ringo leaned over to kiss his forehead. “Happy birthday, Georgie.”


	10. Chapter 10

After his birthday trip to Build-A-Bear, George loved playing with both his Ritchies. Lion Ritchie was great at receiving hugs, with all his fluffy fur. Human Ritchie was great at _giving_ hugs, with his warm arms and tickly fingers. But nothing beat having both at once. Cuddling up in Ringo’s lap while stroking his lion’s fur was the best feeling in the world.

“Comfy?” Ringo asked, running his hand over George’s hair.

With a huge toothy smile, George nodded. “I love you.” George had been doing that a lot when he was little—randomly blurting how much he loved Ringo. But he meant it, so why shouldn’t he say it as much as possible? Besides, it always made Ringo squeeze him tighter.

“Love you too, silly boy,” Ringo said, poking his nose.

George nuzzled against his neck and turned back to the TV. The show they were watching had sounded good from the description. It was about trains, and George loved trains! But the longer they watched this episode of Thomas and Friends, the more frustrated George became.

“Is something wrong?”

Pouting, George hugged his lion tighter. “It’s too quiet.” The show barely had any words. George could hardly tell what was going on. “Why is Thomas going there?” he said, pointing at the screen.

“He needs to take a delivery to the bay.”

George frowned again. How did Ringo know that? Was George too dumb to understand the show?

“I have an idea.” Ringo turned down the volume halfway down. “I’ll tell the story instead.”

George’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

Ringo nodded. He ran his thumb back and forth across George’s knee as he started narrating. “Thomas chugged along the tracks toward the bay. The conductor would be so proud of him for making this delivery. He huffed and puffed past a big, grassy field, and some rocky slopes, and—oh shit, what’s that?”

Gasping, George watched helplessly as Thomas crashed into a pile of rocks that had fallen onto the path.

“’ _Owww!_ ’ said Thomas. All his wheels hurt, and he thought there might be a big crack in his front. He wasn’t sure he would pull through—”

George whimpered and buried his head in Ringo’s shirt. “I don’t like this show.”

“Oh, honey, I was just joking around. See?” Ringo pointed at the screen. “They’re clearing away the rocks. Thomas is fine.”

“B-but you said he was hurt.”

“I’m so sorry, Georgie. I wasn’t trying to scare you.” Ringo grabbed the remote and shut it off. “Let’s do something else. Something happy.”

With his hands still tangled in Ringo’s jumper, George nodded. “Snuggle buggles?”

Ringo smiled at the silly term George had come up with for their bedtime routine. Whenever Ringo spent the night while George was little, they still shared the bed. The presence of George’s onesie and paci made it different of course, and only innocent cuddles took place on those nights. And George got _really_ cuddly.

“That sounds lovely,” Ringo said. “Did you take a shower this morning?”

After thinking for a moment, George shook his head.

“Last night?”

George shook his head again.

“Well, that explains why you’re so stinky,” Ringo teased, tickling George’s armpit until he squealed and squirmed away. “How about you go wash up while I make sure all your pillows are nice and fluffy?”

“I don’t wanna.”

“Huh?”

George crossed his arms. “Don’t wanna shower.”

Ringo sighed. “If you _really_ don’t want to I won’t make you, but I know you don’t like it when you wake up and you have greasy bangs sticking to your forehead.”

Instinctively, George brushed his hair out of his face. “Bath?” he said quietly.

Cocking his head, Ringo repeated his question back. “You want a bath? Of course, you can take a bath, love.”

George looked down, feeling his cheeks heating up. “Ritchie bath?”

“…Um…with you?”

“Nooooo!”

A hint of relief came over Ringo’s face. “Then, you want me to bathe you?”

George nodded. He still didn’t make eye contact.

“Hey.” Ringo cupped his cheek until he smiled. “I think we can make that work.”

* * *

George sat on the edge of the closed toilet lid and stared down at his feet, occasionally tapping his bare toes together. Ringo would be getting back from the store any minute now. George had already changed into his tiny little speedo, as they had discussed, to make sure they were both entirely comfortable.

He watched as the tub continued filling with hot water, and he shivered. He couldn’t wait to get inside.

Soon, the front door opened, and George jumped up. “Ritchie!”

Ringo laughed from the living room. “Hold on, cutie pie. I’ve still got my shoes on.”

George bounced on his toes until Ringo finally stepped into the bathroom and dropped his grocery bag on the floor.

“Somebody’s excited,” Ringo said, poking George’s belly button on his way to shut off the water before the tub overflowed.

“Did you get my toys?” George said, dumping out the bag before Ringo could respond.

“Woah—careful. You could spill something.” Ringo grabbed a bright pink bottle from the floor. George watched quizzically as he unscrewed the cap and poured some into the tub.

When the liquid took action, George gasped. “Bubble bath?”

Ringo grinned. “Surprise!”

George couldn’t wait any longer—he climbed straight inside. Squealing, he slapped his palms against the water and made the bubbles appear faster.

“Oh my,” Ringo muttered, pulling off his now water-splattered shirt and tossing it to the ground. “Would you like your new toys, or are you happy with just the bub—”

“Ducky!”

Laughing, Ringo placed the bright yellow rubber duck into George’s outstretched hands. He placed the small submarine into the water as well and watched it bob along on the surface as George talked to his duck.

George took his duck on an adventure through all the oceans and seas of the world while Ringo scrubbed his hair with shampoo. Ringo’s fingers felt nice and tingly on his head, and George’s conversation with Ducky ended up having lots of giggles in the middle. When Ringo washed the rest of his body, George got a bit squirmy, but as long as it was Ringo with him, he was happy.

Of course, now that George had a taste of his bubbly fun time, he didn’t want it to end. “C’mon, Georgie, let’s get you dried off,” Ringo said, holding out his towel.

Giggling, George took a drop of water and swiped it across Ringo’s cheek. “No.”

“Feeling rebellious tonight, are we?”

George grinned.

“Alright then. I’ll wait.”

And wait he did. Ringo sat and scrolled through his phone while George went on a submarine voyage to rescue Ducky from the pirates. He was about to bring Ducky to safety when—

“Ahh!”

Ringo’s phone clattered to the floor. “What’s wrong?”

“The pirates got my finger,” George whimpered. He held his poor finger out so Ringo could see where it had been cursed into a wrinkly mess.

“Aww, honey,” Ringo said as he gently rubbed his fingertip. “You’ve just stayed in the water too long.” When George wasn’t convinced, he added, “The pirates can’t catch you on land.”

George finally agreed to get out of the tub and let Ringo dry him off. Ringo didn’t even yell at him when he shook out his hair like a dog.

It didn’t take much longer for George to change into his cozy cat onesie, grab his stuffies, and jump into bed.

“Look how nice and clean you are,” Ringo whispered as he shut off the light and climbed in next to him. “Doesn’t that feel good?”

George wrapped himself around Ringo. It felt _very_ good. “I love you.”

Ringo hugged him back. “Love you, too.”

Half the stuffies ended up on the floor and Ringo stole all the blankets, but George couldn’t have been happier.


End file.
